Into Temptation
by AJRoald
Summary: The wedding of a friend introduces Remus to a Ginny who’s all grown up and on her own. Will she ensnare him with her charm? Will he woo her with his words? A dance, a drink, and…Ginny talking to herself? Where will this little encounter lead? RLG


DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

**All Grown Up******

For **aikakone**, who challenged me to write this.  I hope it's what you wanted…snogs and warm fuzzies.

~*~

They hadn't seen each other in nearly ten years.  'Had it really been that long?' Remus thought to himself.  

He had, of course, seen her on the covers of such magazines as Quidditch Weekly and a time or two in the Daily Prophet, as she together with Harry Potter and her brother Ron constituted what the press dubbed 'The Dream Team' for the Quidditch team the Chudley Cannons.  'How ironic,' he thought.  

Ginny had actually been the breakout player of the trio, perhaps because of her model-like appearance, fiery spirit, and genuine amiable personality.  Or it could be her skill as a chaser; no longer did catching the snitch guarantee a win as it did at Hogwarts.  

"Professor Lupin!" Ginny Weasley seemed genuinely surprised to see him.  "My God, how long has it been?"  

She remembered that the last time she had seen him had been at Harry, Ron and Hermione's graduation.  Harry had given him the majority of the Black estate, so he no longer lived in utter poverty.  Tonight he looked quite debonair in a Muggle tuxedo.  His sandy hair was slightly grayer than it had in the past; and his eyes had a few more lines.  

"Since before you graduated Hogwarts, Miss Weasley," Remus answered with a slight smile.  

She had grown into a gorgeous woman, somewhat tall and well toned.  Not overly toned, but enough to give her feminine body a fabulous shape.  Her red hair had grown long and was highlighted with golden streaks.  She left it down for this particular occasion.  Against the black of her dress, it looked stunning.  

"Ginny," she grimaced at the formality.  

"Then please just call me Remus," he smiled fully.  "I haven't been your professor since you were twelve, or maybe thirteen."  His eyes held a hint of merriment, which the youngest Weasley wasn't sure she had ever seen before.  

Actually, they had never been particularly close.  Harry, Ron and Hermione always overshadowed her in that respect, although she did have a moment or two.  She had even sent Sirius Blacks mother screaming one night when they were all at Grimmauld place, and it was Remus who had to try and quiet the ranting picture.

"So are you enjoying yourself?" he continued with polite conversation.  

Ginny looked at him as if to say 'yes, thank you', but instead uttered, "Not really, you?"  

Her eyes widened and she blushed slightly that the words actually fell out of her mouth, and to Remus Lupin of all people.  

"No," he laughed.  His shoulders bounced ever so slightly when he laughed, as if it came from somewhere deep within him.  "But I'm not sure I would have been so bold as to say so before."

"With six brothers," she began, "I've been to enough of these things that they loose there appeal after awhile."  

Remus kept noticing her well-defined figure, surely a result of Quidditch.  The strapless dress she had chosen for this occasion accentuated all her finer qualities.  'Stop checking her out, Moony,' he chided himself.

"Moony!"  Harry shouted from across the hall.  "So glad you could make it.  Hey Gin."  The last was almost an afterthought, just as Ginny Weasley had always been to Harry Potter.  

Remus had seen this many times in the past, from the time he met them all really.  Ginny used to look abashed, disheartened; but tonight she almost looked amused by it.  She had a horde of other admirers and had long since quit pining for one Mr. Potter.  Harry may never know what he lost by never acknowledging young Ginny.  

Ginny didn't stray too far away as Harry and Remus chatted.  Harry introduced his new bride, a pretty young witch more taken with Harry's hero status than Harry himself, but that wasn't for anyone to say.

Ginny had been chatting pleasantly with Colin Creevey, who was now a photographer for the Daily Prophet.  She was genuinely surprised when she felt a strong hand gently touch the small of her back.  

"Professor Lupin," Colin addressed excitedly.  That was one trait the eldest Creevey brother never seemed to outgrow.  

Ginny grew hot with, was it excitement?  While most of the wizarding world figured she had her pick of eligible bachelors, no one ever bothered to ask her out.  Not that she minded much, she had her group of select friends, but it would have been nice once in awhile.

Fire consumed his hand as he touched the silky folds of the black dress at the small of Ginny's back.  He hadn't really anticipated seeking out her company again, but she had been the highlight of his evening.  

"I was wondering if you'd care to dance," he asked softly.  

"I'd love to," she smiled, a tint of red mingled with the light dusting of freckles that fanned across her cheekbones.  

Remus and Ginny took to the dance floor without anyone paying much notice.  He slid his arm around her waist as she slid hers around his neck.  Gently he took her other hand and began to lead them to the beat of the music playing.  Their eyes met with intensity.  She followed in perfect rhythm, never faltering.  

If anyone had noticed them as they danced, they were oblivious to it.  They became each other's world on that dance floor.  The music seemed to play forever, yet stop all too soon.  

Both flushed as the music stopped and Remus led Ginny off the dance floor.  The next song was a bit faster than either cared to dance to.  

"Drink?"  Remus offered her some punch, which she accepted gratefully.  Her cheeks were reddened; he figured it was from dancing.  Little did he know just how stimulating Ginny was finding his company.  

The reception was to the point where Ginny would normally say goodbye to her friends and family and find excuse to leave.  While she didn't want to remain under the watchful eyes of her parents and brothers, she also didn't want to part company with Remus.

"I don't suppose…" they started in unison, then laughed.  

"You go ahead," Ginny smiled.

A slight flush rose in Remus' cheeks.  "I don't suppose you would be interested in finding someplace a little quieter would you?"

"I thought you'd never ask," she grinned.  "What did you have in mind?"

"I know this little place…" he began.

"How about my place?" she interrupted, her chocolate brown eyes darting from his to the floor.  "Otherwise we will end up on the front page of the Daily Prophet with some crude headline.  You know how Skeeter's mind works."

"Then why don't you leave now," Remus began, slightly intrigued and perhaps even a bit excited by the prospect of what the evening could bring.  "I'll follow in about a half hour or so.  That way it won't look suspect and I don't have to worry about six angry Weasley brothers paying me a visit in the near future."

Ginny laughed.  Had they been seen leaving together, said brothers would have paid him a visit.  She gave him her address then proceeded to make her good-bye rounds.

~*~*~*~

"Oh God Gin," she began berating herself as she entered her flat, "what have you gone and done now?  What were you thinking?  Inviting him to your flat like that!  He's going to think you're easy."

Her wand was relentless as it was being brandished to clean a week's worth of neglect.  

"Problem with you is you want to be easy," she continued her rant as she worked quickly.  He hadn't given her much time, but at least she did have some time.  "You fancied him your second year, thought he was cute when you stayed at Grimmauld place.  Looked dashing tonight; but can anyone look bad in a tux?  Face it girl, you haven't had a good shag, hell, you haven't had a good snog in over three years, you're just plain randy!"

At the remembrance of her last tryst, which wasn't really worth remembering, she reddened with anger and embarrassment.  He had been the seeker for the Falcons, and they were both in it only for a bit of fun.  That was the first and last time Rita Skeeter made mincemeat of the pretty little chaser from Ottery St. Catchpole.  

The light rap on the door to her flat brought her out of her trip down memory lane.  She glanced around quickly; it looked lived in but not overly messy.  She smoothed down her dress as she prepared to open the door.  

Remus stood, his shoulder leaning easily against the doorframe with his jacket flung casually over his shoulder.  He noticed she had her wand in hand and smiled.  "Hope you weren't planning on hexing me with that."  

Her eyes got wide as she hid her wand behind her back and, for the first time that night, blushed completely.  "Just…well…bit of last minute cleaning," she finally confessed, signaling him to come in.

His gray eyes darted around the flat.  It was nice, and located on the more expensive side of London.  Done tastefully in whites and peaches, with glass tables on wrought-iron bases, not quite what he had expected from her.  He slipped his shoes off as she had done, as the carpet was plush white shag.  

"Can I get you something to drink?" she offered.  "I can make some tea, or coffee even.  I have some wine if you'd like."

"Red or white?"  He asked, looking at all the pictures on her mantle as she entered the kitchen.  

"Either, actually," she laughed lightly.  "There's a wine closet just there, why don't you pick one?  I'll get us some glasses."  

He was surprised at the level of sophistication at which she lived.  Her music collection was vast, including many of his favorite composers and artists; he hadn't expected that she would appreciate classical music.  The bookshelf was lined with many of the same books that he himself had read.  

"Do you prefer red or white, Ginny?"  It was the first time he had spoken her name, and it tasted like fine chocolate on his lips.  

"Either," she laughed easily as she reentered the living room.  "Perhaps a nice red tonight, though."  

Even her wine collection was vast and impressive.  He selected one of his favorites, a full-bodied Shiraz, as it always reminded him of berries and chocolate.  He presented the bottle to her with flourish.  

"How would this one suit?" his somewhat horse voice asked huskily.

"That's one of my favorites."  She smiled as she presented the glasses to him.  She then went to select something for their listening pleasure.  "Do you mind Mozart?  Perhaps Pachabel?  His canon in D is one of my favorites. Oh, no Tchaikovsky, that's what we should listen too"

"Tchaikovsky will be fine," he replied as he poured them each a glass of wine. "I appreciate all classical music."

"Would you mind starting the fire?" She asked as she crossed the room.  "I must have left my wand in the kitchen."

As if on cue, the fire roared into a blaze.  She smiled sweetly as she sank into the couch.  Remus handed her a glass of wine and sat a comfortable distance away.  

There was a very pregnant pause, both at a loss for words.  "Quidditch has been good to you," Remus finally spoke.  

"I guess," she replied.  "It's not as glamorous as one might be led to believe, however."

"Oh, how so?"

"Well, it really is a lot of hard work," she began, "the long practices and being on the road.  Then there's the issue of the press."

"Since the debacle with the Falcon's seeker," he said, flashing her a cheeky grin.  "I've only ever read good press about you."  

She reddened in response, not realizing he would have read, let alone remembered, the article.  She managed to maintain complete composure though.  "I don't date much.  Keeps things much simpler that way."

"Would have thought you'd have dates lined up out the door," he commented, trying to remain casual.

"You would think," she laughed dismissively.  "I suppose everyone thinks that though, and no one ever thinks to ask me out."

After another moment of silence, they continued in comfortable conversation for a while, both enjoying the others company immensely.  The bottle of wine depleted as they discussed their appreciation for music, various books and authors they have read, and had several deep and intense conversations regarding the political direction the Ministry was headed.  

She had just sat her empty wine glass down when Remus caught her wrist.  His grip was soft, but sent a jolt up Ginny's arm.  She looked at him with slight surprise.  

He knew he shouldn't be doing what he was about to do; oh for the love of God he shouldn't even be considering it.  He had known this girl since she was twelve years old, but before he could talk himself out of it, his lips gently brushed over hers ever so lightly.  

She had wanted him to kiss her all evening, not that she wasn't enjoying his company.  When she felt his hand grip her wrist, she tingled with the prospect.  His lips felt like a feather as they had grazed hers.  

She didn't seem to resist, so he kissed her again.  She leaned into his kiss this time, and her lips opened ever so slightly.  He traced her lips with his tongue causing her to shiver at the contact.  He smiled; pleased he could generate such a reaction.  

When his hand left her wrist and moved to the back of her neck, she wasn't certain.  The only thing she was aware of was that he was pulling her into him until there was no distance between them at all.

Ginny wanted to consume him at that moment, but was afraid so bold a move would scare him off.  He drew her near and deepened the kiss.  She embedded her fingers in his hair; it was all she could do to contain herself. 

Their tongues danced; tasting, exploring, seeking, tantalizing.  He nipped at her bottom lip playfully, causing her to growl at the new sensation it caused.  

Remus' mind screamed at the wrongness of the situation, he was old enough to be her father!  But when she purred as he nipped at her lip, he knew he wouldn't stop.  If she was a drug, he was an addict.  She tasted of red wine and chocolate, how can one go wrong with that combination?  

He left her lips and swore they pouted at the break in contact.  Remus shifted and easily moved Ginny from on top of him to almost underneath him.  His tongue traced circles on the milky skin of her neck, and her body was consumed with gooseflesh.  

She threw her head back, allowing him easier access.  "Mmmmm," she purred again as he licked, kissed, and nipped at her neck and collarbone.  

Not dissatisfied with the sensations he was causing as he continued to wreak havoc on her neck, she still gently led his face back up to hers.  Her lips were in dire need of attention, and he happily obliged.  

Ginny's mind raced with trepidation as this man caused all sorts of new sensations to surge through her body.  Oh how she wanted him, but she was also afraid of things moving too fast.  She really, genuinely liked him, and hoped that he didn't look upon her as just a quick one-night stand with a famous Quidditch chaser.  She doubted it, but the thought was still there.

As if sensing her confusion, Remus backed away with one last gentle kiss.  Her eyes searched his for answers, answers he himself did not possess.  

"We can't let this go any further tonight," his gravelly voice whispered breathlessly.  

Her mind began spinning.  'Oh God, what did I do wrong?  I came off as too easy! Damn it anyway Gin, your mother always told you!  Do I dare ask him why?'

"I understand," were the words that she spoke softly, as her eyes again darted from his to the floor.

"Are you sure?" he asked as he brought her chin up so she had to look at him again.  His eyes were soft and his words were caring, not meant to be degrading.  

"I have to admit, you aren't who I thought you'd be," he began softly with a smile playing at his lips.  They were still very close; close enough she could feel his breath as he spoke.  "I won't lie to you and tell you that wasn't on my mind when I first came here, and I'm pretty sure it was on yours as well.  But truth be told, despite the fact I may come off sounding very school-boyish, I found that I like you very much."  

Her breath hitched, she couldn't believe he was saying such wonderful things to her.  No man had ever denied himself a 'roll in the hay' with her if she had been willing.  Mind you, that wasn't many, but she was a twenty-seven year old witch who rode a broom for a living after all.  

He further unfolded himself off of her couch, until he was finally standing.  He drew her up next to him with a finesse usually reserved for dancers.  His eyes searched hers this time, needing to know if his confession was for not.  She knew he was a werewolf, would it matter?

"It doesn't matter to me," she smiled, gently tracing his jaw line with her fingers.

"What doesn't?" he asked, hoping she had read his mind, but the pessimist in him doubted it.

"That you're a werewolf," she whispered as she pulled him into yet another kiss.  

This kiss was by far the best they had shared all evening.  It conveyed acceptance and true emotions.  It was the beginning of something terrifyingly wonderful.  Too many questions still sat unanswered between them; were they now a couple?  Would they need to tell their families and friends?  What would people think?  But then again, who really cared what others thought.  

Yet for the moment, they simply savored the warm embrace and tender touches.  The rest could be dealt with later…..


End file.
